


The Problems with Injustice

by HedwigsOwl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:04:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedwigsOwl/pseuds/HedwigsOwl
Summary: After Voldemort's return, Fudge is determined to discredit Harry Potter at all turns even sending him to the worst place imaginable, Azkaban. Those few who remain loyal to him must attempt the impossible, facing their own horrors in order to save Harry from his own. Story centered around Harry, Sirius and Dumbledore. Set after the Ministry trial of OOTP.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

**Prologue:**

_"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,"_  Dumbledore said, bowing his head slightly in Umbridge's direction. _"Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."_

Dumbledore stopped again but this time Harry could see what had interrupted him. The doors to the Great Hall had burst open and a small group of witches and wizards had entered, led by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Harry scanned his eyes over the crowd quickly and spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt standing tall at the back, his golden earring glinting in the candlelight, his face as calm as ever. Standing next to Fudge was Ron's brother, Percy. He was practically bouncing on the spot in excitement. The others that made up the small entourage, which consisted of eight or nine people, Harry had never seen before. Dumbledore seemed taken aback for a moment, before his face settled into a serene expression.

"Cornelius," Dumbledore began pleasantly, but his eyes were hard and cold. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Good evening, Dumbledore." Fudge replied haughtily. "Forgive the interruption but I am here on important Ministry business."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked. "Well, then perhaps you would like to accompany me to my office and we can allow the students to retire to bed?"

"Oh no, no, no." Fudge replied cheerfully. "I don't think that is necessary, Dumbledore. There is nothing to discuss."

The sleepy, relaxed atmosphere that had filled the room had disappeared in a flash. The silence in the hall was absolute. No one even seemed to breathe. All the students had their eyes fixed between Dumbledore and Fudge, excited curiosity etched on their faces. Some had even stood on the benches to get a better view of the events. Harry glanced up at the Head table and saw the teachers stare at the new arrivals with narrowed expressions. McGonagall stood with flurried motions and walked towards Dumbledore. He bent down slightly to hear what she was whispering to him, a small frown playing on his lips but when he straightened he looked as calm as always. Dumbledore strolled leisurely down the length of the hall, stopping short of the crowd of Aurors and grasped his hands in front of him.

"I believe it would be best if we spoke privately, Cornelius." Dumbledore said quietly but his voice carried easily over the heavy silence. "This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion."

"Oh, I think not." Fudge replied calmly, straightening his shoulders in the face of Dumbledore's impressive height. "I think it's about time we put this whole messy affair to bed."

He scanned his attention across the hall, yet when his gaze reached Harry's direction, he paused for a fraction of a second and a cold, menacing glint shone in his eyes. Harry felt Hermione stiffen beside him but before he could ask what was wrong, Fudge began speaking again.

"Terrible business all this, Dumbledore, terrible business indeed," Fudge said clearly, but the twisted smile that had appeared on his face betrayed his words, "but the Ministry must act where it sees fit, for the safety of the students. We cannot allow a murderer to walk free amongst us. You can already imagine what the parent's are saying. Something must be done."

"What is this nonsense?" McGonagall asked coldly, coming to stand next to Dumbledore, her mouth so thin her lips had seemed to vanish. "You can't possibly mean to accuse Albus of murder?"

"Of course not, Minerva." Fudge continued, rocking back and forth on his toes, his hands clasped behind his back. "After all, Dumbledore was present here at the time of the terrible event. There are a room full of witnesses that can testify that he was nowhere near Diggory at his death. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for..."

Fudge paused and turned his head to stare at Harry over the mass of students again. Something heavy and cold had settled in his stomach when he realised what Fudge was saying. Every eye in the room followed the Minister. Harry felt his breath constrict in his lungs. He felt stunned. He must have been dreaming. He distantly became aware of the muttering and whispering that had broken out across the hall.

"A warrant," Fudge continued, finally dropping his hands from his back and holding out a scroll towards Dumbledore. "For the arrest of Harry Potter...for the murder of Cedric Diggory."

Harry turned towards Hermione and Ron, who were staring at him with a mixture of terror and shock.

"This is a joke, right?" Harry said blankly. "This can't be happening..."

They didn't answer. Harry ignored the heads turned towards him and looked towards Dumbledore pleadingly. He would fix this surely. He wouldn't allow Harry to be sent to Azkaban. But Dumbledore wasn't looking in his direction. He had drawn himself to his full height, and for the first time that night, he looked angry.

"This is madness, Cornelius!" Dumbledore said coldly. "I will not allow you to interfere with any of my students. As long as I am Headmaster-"

"Ah!" Fudge interrupted with a look of viscous satisfaction. "That is just the thing, Dumbledore. I'm afraid the Board of Governors have decided that your actions these past few months have shown your true light, as they say. They recommend that you be removed from your post as Headmaster."

There was yells of outrage coming from the crowd and Harry saw Fudge blink in surprise. It was clear that he thought that Dumbledore had lost the support of his students. An expression of annoyance graced his face before Dumbledore raised his hand towards the crowd around him and silence fell once more.

"Harry Potter," Fudge continued through clenched teeth, his eyes locked with Dumbledore. "You are under arrest for the murder of Cedric Diggory in the light of new evidence. You will be escorted to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and held until your trial at sunrise."

This declaration seemed to spur a reaction from Ron and Hermione, both of whom jumped to their feet in outrage.

"How is this justice?" Hermione cried, tears of anger shinning in her eyes. Ron looked so furious, his face had turned as red as his hair.

"You can't do this!" He yelled at Fudge before turning towards Percy and pointing a shaking hand in his direction. "Percy, you prat! Are you just going to stand there?" Percy recoiled as if he had been slapped but he said nothing. He didn't even look in Ron's direction. "You're not my brother anymore!"

Before long, Neville, Fred, George, Ginny, Dean and most of the Gryffindor team had gotten to their feet to join the calls until their voices fused into one angry tirade. To Harry's surprise, students from other tables had stood to defend him. Only the Slytherin table remained seated.

"Silence!" Dumbledore said finally and the crowd fell silent once more.

"Up here, Potter, now!" Fudge barked angrily (it seemed this had not gone to plan for him) but Harry couldn't move. He felt as if he had been immobilised. His legs felt like lead and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest.

"Harry, come here." Dumbledore said softly.

With a shaky breath, Harry got to his feet, stumbled slightly on his robes and walked towards the small crowd that had formed in the space between the house tables. He stood awkwardly beside Dumbledore and Fudge but before he could speak, Dumbledore reached out and wrapped his hand around Harry's wrist, pulling him behind his back. Pain flashed across his scar on his forehead at the touch and Harry felt the horrible urge to attack him, like a snake rising through his chest but it vanished as soon as the cool fingers left his skin. He barely had time to frown in confusion at the broad back before him before Dumbledore began speaking again.

"Prefects, please lead the students back to the dormitories and await instruction from your Heads of House." Dumbledore continued calmly. "Now."

There was a stunned silence before the prefects hastened to obey and led the students from the Great hall. Many of them slowed as they passed the group, clearly wanting to remain to see the events unfold. Harry glanced through the crowd and caught sight of Ron and Hermione who were leading a group of frightened looking first years. They looked at Harry for long moments, their faces trying to convey reassurance before they forced to move from the crowd pressing against their back. Harry wondered, with a pain in his chest, if this would be the last time he would ever see his friends. The teachers stepped down from the Head table and joined McGonagall and Dumbledore in the middle of the tables, even Snape, who looked hesitant to be near so many Aurors. Umbridge, Harry saw, walked past the teachers and took her place on the other side of Fudge, an animated look upon her toad-like face. Dumbledore waited until the last student had left the hall before he spoke again, his voice returning to the calm and authoritative manner Harry had come to associate with the old wizard.

"I will not allow this to happen, Cornelius." He repeated and Harry looked down in time to see Dumbledore's wand appear clenched in his hand. "I will give you one chance to see reason. Cedric Diggory was murdered at Lord Voldemort's command, not Harry's. Any evidence you claim to have is false."

"Now, now Dumbledore." Fudge said smugly, bouncing on his feet again, his eyes flicking towards the wand in Dumbledore's grasp. "I have no reason to arrest you as of yet. Don't do anything foolish."

"Foolish?" McGonagall repeated scornfully, his eyes narrowed into slits. "I must say that is rich coming from you, Cornelius. Might I remind you that Potter is under-age and is therefore protected by-"

"He will receive a trial, Minerva!" Fudge said irritably. "If he has nothing to hide, then he has nothing to worry about!"

"I fear not for Potter's innocence," McGonagall replied angrily, "more for the sham that is our justice system! Heaven forbid the Ministry spend their efforts searching for the real culprits of this crime rather than harassing innocent students!"

"Calm yourself, Minerva." Dumbledore said steadily as Fudge turned an ugly purple colour. "If you have left us with no choice, Cornelius then we too must do what is best for the safety of our student."

Although Dumbledore's voice had not risen in volume, Harry heard the threat as clear as if he had shouted. There was a ripple of motion surrounding him at Dumbledore's words. Harry glanced around and saw that every teacher present had their wands out. It suddenly dawned on Harry what the professors were about to do, even those he had never spoken with before, and he could not let it happen. If they fought to protect him, they would be arrested as well and the school would be left with no one but Umbridge and the Ministry to control it. The thought turned his stomach. Clearly, the Ministry officials realised their intentions as well, for they stiffened visibly in preparation for attack.

"You do not think you can take on the Ministry, Albus?" Umbridge in a sickeningly sweet voice and beneath his numbed disbelief, Harry felt real hatred rise in him. "Such a case of blatant insubordination must be handled accordingly."

"Indeed it must, Dolores." Dumbledore responded simply.

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest but his mind was oddly clear. He knew what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped to the side and faced Fudge.

"No." Harry said between numbed lips. "If there's a trial, I'll go."

"I cannot allow that, Harry." Dumbledore replied softly without looking at him. "Please stand back."

"No." Harry said again, surprised himself that he was disagreeing with the Headmaster. Snape turned to him quickly and stared at him through dark, menacing eyes but he ignored him. "It's alright, I'll go, just...don't fight, please."

"Well," Fudge said after a moment of shocked silence. "Well...you heard him. Dawlish, Streps...take him. Dumbledore, you will be removed from this school immediately."

McGonagall moved slightly as if she were about to intervene but after a second, she seemed to decide otherwise and she remained were she stood, her body tense. Dumbledore sighed heavily and lowered his wand.

"Very well." He said hesitantly. He lifted his free hand and if he were about to touch Harry again but he dropped his arm before it could reach its target. "I will see you tomorrow morning, Harry." Dumbledore whispered to him though he still avoided his eyes. "I promise you."

Harry only nodded as his arms were gripped tightly by the two Aurors and he was pulled from the hall. A horrified thought filled him mind as he was lead towards the front doors. Dementors. What if he was placed with them until his trial? Harry felt himself grow pale. He wouldn't last the night.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

**Chapter 1:**

Albus Dumbledore appeared with barely a whisper of sound, pausing slightly to look around the deserted street. Whether because of his own prodigious skill or for some other reason unbeknownst to him, he saw no sign nor heard no sound since his departure from the Ministry mere hours ago. He had been followed religiously since his removal from the school, no doubt a plan spawned from Cornelius' ridiculous paranoia. The Minister's attempts to catch him in the act, so to speak would have been humorous if the situation had not been so dire. Nevertheless, Albus stood in silence, turning his head casually from side to side, his blue eyes closing behind his spectacles. To the outside world, he would simply appear as an old man enjoying the warmth of the sun rather than a wizard searching for signs of attack. His eyes opened.

All was quiet. The light of the clear autumn morning was now glowing and reflecting from the windows of the muggle residences. The noise of laughing children reached his ears from a distant street and the sound of birds singing brought a wholesome peace to the area. To Albus, Harry's arrest and the rumours of the darkness growing in the world outside already seemed only the memories of a troubled dream; but as he walked lightly across the road and entered Grimmauld Place, his face became grave.

With a sigh, Albus pushed open the door to the kitchen and entered only to find it empty, the fire burning low within the grate. With a flick of his wand, flames erupted in the fireplace, casting shadows throughout the empty room. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of movement but on closer inspection he found it to be an article on Harry's arrest laying abandoned on the large dining table. A large photo of Harry covered most of the front page and for the first time in months, Albus allowed himself to look into the large, emerald eyes.

His heart clenched painfully within his chest at the sight.

No matter how he tried, Albus could no longer play the part of the stoic yet wise Headmaster of Hogwarts. Distantly, he wondered if the small, animated first year who had so timidly entered Hogwarts years ago had ever been just another student to him. He had vowed long ago that he would never become too attached to any student. It was a code that all professors must follow for, no sooner had they met, the young wizard and witches under their care would depart as adults and they in turn must embrace the new students who walked fearfully into the Great Hall. Some students, of course would be remembered more so than any others, such as the two men who occupied this house. Sirius and Remus had both suffered terribly as children, thrown head-first into the evil of this world before they could think freely for themselves. How easy it would be for them to abandon all hope and follow the wrong path and yet they had remained loyal and true, even during their darkest days.

Not unlike the young man in their care.

Albus had watched from afar as Harry struggled with more horrors than any other student who had walked the halls of Hogwarts and yet become a young man who Albus respected and admired above all others. No, he could no longer pretend to be the distant educator for Harry was no longer his student. He had become so much more than that. And he, Albus Dumbledore, was no longer the leader of the Order but a man; one who was as lost as they...

" _Harry Potter, you have been brought before the Council of Magical Law so we can pass judgement on you for the murder of Cedric Diggory-"_

" _It wasn't me! It was Peter Pettigrew!"_

" _You wish to accuse a man who has been dead for over thirteen years; to tarnish the name of a hero who cannot be here to defend himself? You are despicable -"_

" _You have the testimony of one Remus J Lupin who willingly confirmed Mr Potter's side of events on the night Peter Pettigrew revelled himself."_

" _Do you expect me to take the testimony of a werewolf, who has connections to the convict Sirius Black, seriously?"_

" _Remus Lupin is a trustworthy man and has no reason to lie to the court-"_

" _I have heard the witness's defence regarding the night Sirius Black escaped, Dumbledore and his story gets more ridiculous every time I hear it. Do not waste the court's time on nonsense...Mr Potter, it has been well known within Hogwarts that yourself and Diggory had somewhat of a tense relationship throughout your school years."_

" _No, he was my friend..."_

" _Come now, Cornelius. If you believe that every school rivalry will end in murder then every cell in Azkaban would be occupied by now."_

" _...And yet, we have the testimony of a muggle who witnessed Mr Potter killing Diggory on the night when Barty Crouch Jr transported them from the grounds. To me, it seems Mr Potter took advantage of the situation that had fallen before him."_

" _Then bring them forth to testify before the court."_

" _Oh no, no...He is much too afraid for his safety, Dumbledore and rightly so considering the heinous crime he committed on his own aunt..."_

" _A case of accidental magic that Mr Potter was cleared of this summer! This is madness Cornelius! Mr Potter is an under-age wizard which according to the rules of the Wizengamot means he cannot be tried as an adult."_

" _That right falls to the Minister in extreme cases to decide and in this case if Mr Potter is capable of murder then he shall be tried as an adult...You are no longer one of us, Dumbledore...your presence has no place in this courtroom..."_

" _...All those in favour of imprisonment, raise your hands...well, it seems the vote is unanimous...take him away!"_

" _Professor..."_

" _Be strong, Harry. I promise...I will do everything in my power to see you released..."_

" _No, please...stay away from me..."_

" _...forgive me, Harry."_

Albus was mildly surprised to feel his eyes begin to water. He had to blink for a few seconds before the bold words of the heading did not blur into one.

**The-Boy-Who-Killed**

No sooner had his sight returned to normal, he had to blink into surprise as the  _Daily Prophet_  burst into flames before his eyes and Harry's picture was engulfed in the flames. There was a long silence as Albus watched the fire flicker and die leaving nothing but a dusting of ash in its wake. Finally, he turned to the presence at his back and his eyes locked with the haunted grey of Sirius Black. They regarded each other silently for long moments and it was as if an invisible beam of understanding passed between them.

"You've been gone a long time." Sirius said finally, his voice slightly hoarse and strained. From the acceptance in his face, it seemed that the statement did not require an explanation but Albus nodded anyway.

"Indeed," He said grimly. "And it has been for nought, I'm afraid. There are a few who do not believe Harry's guilt despite what Cornelius has claimed but as long as he is Minister no one will dare speak out against him. I fear we will receive no help from the Ministry. "

Sirius laughed but it was without warmth and when he spoke his tone was bitter. "The day the Ministry proves valuable is the day I join their ranks myself."

"Despite Cornelius' actions the Ministry still has a purpose, Sirius."

Sirius did not reply but the hostility in his eyes spoke volumes of his view of the Ministry. After a moment, he spoke again.

"Get you a drink?" He asked calmly, motioning towards the table with the bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand.

"I believe it is a little early in the day for such refreshments." Albus responded lightly.

"Or a little late." Sirius responded with a wry smile as he took a seat at the table. Albus moved to sit at the chair to his left and took a good look at the younger man. Since he had informed the Order of Harry's arrest, the frightening anger that had overcome Sirius had disappeared. The colour had come back to his face and his eyes were clear and fully awake. He was smiling, and there seemed to be little wrong with him. But to the wizard's eye there was a faint change, one that did not require Legilimency to see: the barely leashed pain that Sirius had buried deep within. It was as if he had been thrown back into Azkaban with his godson.

"I don't believe I did enough during the trial but then again, hindsight is as much a burden as it is a blessing. I fear I have failed Harry once again." Albus said slowly, watching the younger man carefully. In the months that had past, Albus knew that Sirius had felt a great deal of anger towards him, particularly for keeping him within the house he despised so fiercely. He had never hesitated in speaking his mind when it came to the care that Albus had placed on his godson and such a comment would have not been left unanswered for long but now, Sirius remained lifeless. It was disconcerting.

"Yes, well...who hasn't?" Sirius said with a grim smile.

"You have risked everything to keep Harry safe. I can honestly say that you have never failed him." Albus replied sincerely. Sirius eyes clouded over and for the first time that night, he saw a glimmer of the man that had been forced within. Albus knew all too well what thoughts had crossed his mind. "You put your faith in the wrong person, Sirius. There is no crime in that."

Albus looked at him and saw with surprise that his face was drawn as if in pain, his hands clenched the arms of his chair. The room was very quiet and still and the light from the fire seemed to have grown dim. For a while Sirius sat with unseeing eyes as if walking in distant memory or listening to sounds beyond the solid walls.

"Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could undo that night." He said after a moment, drawing his hand across his brow softly as if he were pulling out the memory. "But...for the first time since then, I'm almost glad James and Lily aren't here to see this. It would destroy them."

Albus looked quickly at Sirius but he had closed his eyes. Silence fell between them once more, neither comfortable nor awkward but heavy, leaving both men to contemplate their own thoughts.

"There is something you must know, Sirius." Albus said finally and Sirius' eyes opened hesitantly. "I must beg your pardon for not divulging this sooner but I felt that it was not my burden to share. There is a reason why I have not spoken with Harry since last year, a reason that has caused me great concern. Please know that my actions, whether justified or not, have stemmed from wanting to protect Harry for as long as possible."

"Spit it out, Dumbledore." Sirius said impatiently.

Albus sighed. "You are, of course, aware of the connection between Voldemort's mind and Harry's. Harry himself has disclosed that information to you but since Voldemort's return that connection has grown stronger. For now, I believe that Voldemort is unaware that Harry can access his thoughts so easily but I fear that, should he discover it, he will not hesitate to possess him as a means to discover the contents of the Prophecy."

"But, Harry doesn't know..." He paused suddenly and Albus heard him take a sharp intake of breath. "You're not worried about the Prophecy. The longer Harry stays in Azkaban, the weaker his mind will get."

"Yes." Albus said softly.

"Voldemort won't just use this connection for knowledge...he'll t-torture him!" Sirius slammed the glass bottle on the table with such force, Albus was surprised it did not shatter. He forced himself to look into the furious grey eyes demanding his attention. "You knew this and you've done nothing to protect him-"

"There is nothing I could have done, Sirius." Albus said calmly. "I have avoided him so as not to tempt Voldemort to use him as a means of spying on the Order, to protect him."

"There are ways of protecting the mind from outside forces Dumbledore; you know that better than anyone."

"And such means can also weaken the mind. I have tried to avoid such a resort for as long as I could but now it is too late. I have made a grave mistake Sirius, I know this."

Sirius was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide and fearful. "You're telling me that my godson is locked away in the worst place imaginable with his mind, not only being attacked by Dementors but by Voldemort as well?"

Albus closed his eyes and said: "Yes."

The sound of a chair scraping across the wooden ground echoed throughout the silent room and Albus forced himself to open his eyes. Sirius stood over him, his hands clenched into fists at his side and his face drawn in fury. "You wanted time and I gave it but we've waited long enough. If you can't get my godson out of Azkaban then I will!"

"Sirius, be reasonable." Remus' voice reached them from the open kitchen door and both men turned in his direction. Albus couldn't prevent the small frown that formed between his eyes as he took in the younger man's appearance. His clothes and hair were ruffled from sleep, his amber eyes were sunken and tired, and fresh scars from the past full moon two nights before stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin. From the pained look on his worn face, it appeared that he had, unbeknownst to the two men, been present for some time. "Azkaban is one of the most protected structures in Britain. What would you have us do; walk in through the front door?"

"Precisely."

Albus smiled slightly when the two men turned towards him, surprise evident on their faces.

"I won't pretend that it will be easy." He continued calmly. "On the contrary, it will be immensely difficult. Forgive me, Sirius." Albus continued graciously with a nod in the man's direction. "Getting out is one thing, getting in is quite the other and the risk, should we be captured, will be unimaginable. Yet, I believe we have come to the point where we have no other option. I have tried every other route available to us and it has been fruitless. The time for diplomacy is passed. However, I cannot hope to do it alone. I will require some assistance...if you are willing and able, of course."

The only response in the darkened room was the sound of Sirius dropping to his seat once more, his anger fading into shock.

"Albus..." Remus responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "If all of us are caught by the Ministry, it will be the end of the Order-"

Albus shook his head. "You misunderstand me, Remus. I intend for this mission to be carried out by a select few, mainly the three who stand within this very room. Molly and Arthur have young children who will naturally come first, we cannot risk Kingsley or Nymphadora's position within the Ministry and there are few others I would trust with this task."

"But we have less to lose..." Remus said softly in agreement.

Albus shook his head slightly and smiled. "We have much more to gain, Remus."

Sirius turned his head sharply and stared at Albus intently, a curious gleam reflected in his eyes as he took in the implications of that simple statement. " _We?_ "

"Yes, Sirius. We." Albus responded gently, lowering his head to peer over his spectacles. "I understand your hesitancy in leaving Harry there any longer, particularly now that you know the risk to Harry's mind." Albus continued, with a pointed look in Sirius' direction. He frowned slightly in annoyance but for the moment remained silent. "But it will take time and preparation. We will only get one chance to succeed and the odds are stacked against us. If it is some comfort to you, I believe Alastor will also accompany us."

"I'm sure we could use his help." Remus replied wryly, moving to sit at the table. He shook his head. "Four people breaking into Azkaban, it's certainly never been done."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter but for the first time that night, it was genuine. Albus smiled slightly in relief. Whatever prison Sirius had locked himself away in within his mind had crumbled. "Before me, no one had ever escaped Azkaban unaided either, Moony."


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

Chapter 2

"Tell me again, Lock." Harry spoke in a high, cold, merciless voice that seemed to echo through the cavernous room. "Tell me why you have failed?"

The cowering man before him trembled and pressed his forehead into the ground in subservience.

"Speak, you simpering fool!"

"M-my Lord." The man croaked, raising his head slightly so he could stare into Voldemort's red, pitiless eyes. "The Order, my Lord. It is too well protected. Only you and the boy can retrieve it. They have guards surrounding it night and day. We have tried but-"

"But." Harry interrupted in a quiet, thoughtful tone. "You have failed. I find myself unsurprised, Lock."

The man kneeling in the center of the circle flinched visably and bowed his head once more. "If we had more time, my Lord."

Harry's lipless mouth curved into something close to a smile and his red eyes fastened on the cowering form with such intensity that some of the watchers turned away in fear.

"More time?" Harry laughed suddenly, cold and piercing and without humour. "Perhaps you think I should walk into the Ministry myself and alert the Minister of my return when he is so sweetly denying it? I expect no less from you."

Voldemort raised his head and stared at the other wizards in the room ruthlessly. "Harry Potter is no longer under Albus Dumbledore's protection and the longer you fail in your tasks, the greater chance he has of freeing him. We do not have more time."

"I will break into Azkaban and kill Harry Potter." Harry continued, twisting his wand in his long spidery fingers. "If you imbeciles do not make it more difficult for me at every turn!"

A visible tremor radiated through every occupant of the room.

"Out! Get out!" Harry screamed, feeling anger spike in his chest. "All of you!"

When he woke, Harry distantly realized he had no idea where he was but he couldn't seem to gather enough emotion to care. He lay flat on his back, breathing hard as if he had been running, his hands pressed against his scar as it throbbed beneath his fingertips.

He blinked repeatedly, trying to rid his eyes of the moisture and stared around the room, his heart slowly regaining its normal rhythm. He saw nothing but the eternal night that permeated throughout the prison, a decaying darkness that seemed to pulse with life through the very walls of its structure, despair dripping from every crevice.

Memories flooded him. Azkaban.

This had been his existence for more weeks than he could remember. His eyes moved to the far wall where he started to count the days of his imprisonment, each mark of the rock signifying a day. Or at least the days he had been conscious. Harry closed his eyes. The darkness appeared strange compared to the flickering green light of his dream. He was struggling to remember the details.

The sound of metal grating and the sudden calming presence that filled his senses, clearing his rushing thoughts for the first time in weeks, forced his eyes open. The door to his cell and the surrounding bars were illuminated in a brilliant white light as it swung open, reveling a short, stout man with balding head; his bear Patronus stalking after him. He looked around the cell once, raising his wand to cast a silent spell creating a seemingly invisible wind that lifted Harry's hair and sent a chill across his skin. The guard appeared to be satisfied because, without a glance in Harry's direction he lowered his wand, dropped the tray of food in his hand and turned to leave.

"W-wait." Harry croaked, his voice breaking from disuse. "What date is it?"

The guard paused at the door, his back tense. "Eat your food."

Harry stood on shaky legs and almost toppled over had it not been for the wall to his left. Reaching out, he placed a restraining arm on the guard's wrist when he moved to leave again. "Please."

Something in his voice must have resonated with the guard because he sighed heavily and turned to face him.

"Shit," he cursed softly. "You're just a kid."

Harry waited patiently while the man ran a tired hand over his face. Eventually, he dropped his hand and looked Harry in the eye.

"It's October 14th. Just keep your head down." He warned gently, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Don't give the dementors reason to torment you. Now eat you're food while you can."

With that, he turned and walked from the room. The sound of the bars locking was deafening in the silence.

Harry looked to the marked wall. He had counted twenty-nine days, not forty-two. Somewhere between periods of consciousness, he lost count. To him, it seemed like an eternity had passed. An eternity of green light, his mother's pleading screams and faded dreams of Voldemort. With a sigh, he picked up the rock and marked off the remaining days.

"I promise, I will do everything in my power to see you released."

Turning from the grime-covered wall, Harry considered the tray of food for a moment but found the mere sight of it turned his stomach. He knew he should try to eat something. He had become thin even for his lanky frame, his bones protruding from beneath his sunken skin but every mouthful tasted of ash. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. The despair was too much to cope with and he had to bite his tongue against the injustice of it all. He was innocent! He didn't deserve to be here.

"Itty bitty baby" a piercing voice crowed from beyond his cell. "Locked away and forgotten. No mummy or daddy to save him….all forgotten."

Harry peered into the penetrating darkness and there, bathed in the eerie silver flow from the fading Patronus, stood Bellatrix Lestrange. She appeared so different from his memories of the Pensieve the year before but he was sure it was her. His heart came to an abrupt stop and then redoubled in fear. She stood pressed against the bars of her cell, cradling her right arm, her fingers stroking the black skull tattoo that covered her forearm lovingly.

"But don't you worry, baby Potter." She cooed again mockingly. "He'll make it all better. Soon he'll come for us."

The pain in his scar seared again as he pushed himself further into his cell; Bellatrix's form disappearing in the darkness. Harry closed his eyes as the haunting dream came to the forefront of his mind once more, a chilling scream echoing through the hallway, as if voicing his silent terror.

"Voldemort."

Before long, the other inmates answered with screams of their own as the over-whelming effects of the dementors filled the cells.

"Not Harry!" His mother's voice pleaded in his head. Harry stumbled backwards as the room began to spin beneath his feet. He didn't feel himself hit the cold concrete as he succumbed to the darkness, filled with a feeling of joy that was not his own.

Harry woke to the feeling of a warm hand brushing against his forehead. He frowned at the unfamiliar touch and opened his eyes, seeing only the blurry outline of a woman. The pain in his scar had not lessened and he struggled against groaning aloud.

"Oh my poor boy," A familiar voice reached his ears. "What on earth have they done to you?"

Breath trickled out of his lungs in a hidden sigh. Harry blinked and locked eyes with the woman who was still stroking his forehead lovingly. The sight of green eyes and long red hair causing his heart to race.

"Mum?"

Harry jumped to his feet. He swallowed, coughed and swallowed again before he was finally able to voice his disbelief. "B-but you're dead."

"Yes, I died that night with your father." There was no self-pity in his mother's voice, no anger. It was as if she had accepted her fate.

"How are you here?"

"Oh sweetheart." She said lovingly and Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. "I never really left you."

Harry tried to listen to the logically part of his brain that was telling him that his mother was dead but this wasn't the first time she had come to him. Perhaps, when he needed her now more than ever, she had appeared...as real as the walls surrounding him. Her emerald eyes were warm and loving. She looked at him like a mother and soon, Harry turned off the logical voice in his head.

Harry felt his eyes burning and more than anything he wanted to fall into her arms and beg her to save him, to free him from this torture. He hadn't meant to move but his feet acted of his own accord and before he knew it, small warm arms were wrapped around his back. His mother was holding him for the first time in his life.

"It'll be ok, Harry." She said in his ear as she stroked his back gently. "We'll find a way to get you out of here. I promise."

Harry could only nod as the burning moved to his throat making speech impossible. He closed his eyes against the moisture that was building not wanting to spoil the moment he had dreamed of his entire life.

"I don't have much time here." Lily continued after a moment of silence. "We must be quick."

That snapped Harry to attention and he pulled away from her warm embrace. "T-time. Voldemort-he's coming. I had a dream, only it wasn't a dream….it was real. I have to get out of here now!"

Lily held her hand up against Harry's frantic rambling and he fell quiet, his eyes darting around his cell as if Voldemort was about to appear from within the very walls.

"We will, Harry." She replied calmly. "But first I need to know what Dumbledore has told you. I need to know what the prophecy says or I can't help you. Harry...it's imperative-"

"What are you talking about?"

A flash of impatience crossed Lily's face before a serene look appeared in her eyes and she smiled. "The prophecy, Sweetheart. You can trust me. Tell me what the prophecy says."

"What prophecy?" Harry asked pleadingly as Lily turned away, her back facing him. "Mum, Dumbledore never told me anything about a prophecy. We have to leave…Voldemort could come at any time!"

Swiftly Lily turned towards Harry, her eyes wary and Harry felt as though he were a small child caught in wrong-doing.

"He never told you?" She asked softly, walking towards him once more. A strange glint appeared in her eyes. "He never told you about the prophecy?"

"No!" Harry said, his panic to leave making him irritable. "Mum, we have to leave now!"

Lily smiled again. "Haven't you ever wondered why Voldemort came after us the night me and your father died?"

Harry felt his heart stop. Here was the answer he had wanted since he had found out about that fateful Halloween night but there was no excitement or curiousity present. All there was was fear. He was more concerned with leaving before Voldemort came for him. Didn't his mother understand that this could wait?

"I-I thought it was because you fought against him." Harry said shakily. "You were in the Order-"

Harry stopped abruptly when Lily laughed. It was chilling.

"No, no. It was because of the prophecy that was made before your birth. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.' I would have thought Dumbledore would have told you the rest."

Harry couldn't form a clear thought through the jumbled mess. Voldemort had targeted them, killed his parents because of a prophecy that was made about him…Harry.

Guilty! Murderer!

The same accusations he heard since he was first imprisoned came rushing back to him. He covered his ears with his hands, shaking his head madly.

"No, no, no." Harry mumbled nonsensically. "I'm innocent. I don't belong here. I didn't know…"

Warm hands covered his and he stared into the emerald-green eyes, so similar to his own. "Of course you didn't Harry. You don't belong here. Don't you see? There is nothing but pain and suffering in your future, Sweetheart. The world expects you to kill Voldemort. You don't have that kind of power."

Harry lowered both their hands and stepped back from her. He simply wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. He was afraid if he opened his mouth, he would throw up. His mother was right. There was no hope. Even if he did escape from this cursed placed he would still be a prisoner. He closed his eyes against the despair that threatened to drive him to his knees.

"I never wanted this life for you." His mother continued sadly. "You've fought enough. You can rest now. Your father and I have missed you so much."

Harry's eyes snapped open in disbelief. "W-what? Kill myself? No….no, I can't do that! Sirius, my friends-"

"Have abandoned you!" She interrupted harshly. "No one is coming for you. Dumbledore has forgotten all about you, Harry. Can't you see that?"

She finished with a wave towards the marks on the wall, counting the days of his imprisonment.

"Come home." A hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled until his palm faced upwards, a particularly jagged piece of rock now held within his grasp. "There will be no more pain."

Harry lifted his eyes and stared at his mother in shock. This couldn't be the woman he stared at in his photo album for countless hours, the woman everyone had spoken so pleasantly about, the woman who had gave her life so that he could live only a few moments more. Harry narrowed his eyes and began walking backwards from her.

"You're not my mother." Harry said brokenly. "You're not her. Stay away from me!"

"What are you talking about, Harry? Of cours-"

"Quiet in there, boy." A voice snarled behind him. Harry spun on the spot and came face to face with another guard, one who reminded Harry of Mad-eye Moody, his face scarred beyond recognition.

"Don't you see her?" Harry asked frantically. The guard's eyes shifted beyond Harry as he glanced around the cell, his expression remaining the same. Harry turned as well and seen his mother standing in the middle of the cell.

"There's no one there. Now keep it down." The guard said, walking away mumbling under his breath about lunatics.

Harry wanted to call out and beg the man not to leave him alone but he knew it would have fallen on deaf ears. Taking a shuttering breath, Harry pressed his back against the bars of his cell and tired to gather his courage. "Who are you?"

Harry watched in disbelief as the image of his mother began to morph and shift before his eyes. Tall, pale and clothed in dark, sweeping robes; Lord Voldemort stood before him. Harry gasped loudly and he was sure he heard Bellatrix's manic laugh from behind him.

"Hello Harry." Voldemort said mockingly. "It has been too long."

"You're not here-"

"Not yet." He interrupted coldly, tapping his temple with a long, twisted finger. "I discovered the connection between our minds, Harry. And if I can control your mind, I can make you see anything I wish. Until, I can see you in person at least."

Voldemort smirked at him and looked around the small, bleak cell. "My, my Harry. Such a predicament you're in….but now you know the truth: the prophecy that began our tale. I'm surprised to find that Dumbledore has not told you, simpering muggle-loving fool, he is. I have been hesitant to kill you until I learn the truth, Harry but mark my words. I will."

Harry glared at him, trying to steady the pounding of his heart. Voldemort laughed.

"Harry, Harry…my most loyal servants are here and you, so weak and vulnerable. Foresaken. In time, I will attack Azkaban and kill you. If I were you, I would save myself the trouble and the torture and end it myself."

Harry shook his head, his fingers loosening and dropping the rock to the ground, a feeling of new found determination filling him; the sudden thought of his friends, his godfather, Lupin and Dumbledore acting as some inner Patronus. Voldemort sneered and moved into the darkness until Harry is once again left alone, trembling and pale. Dropping to the ground, Harry pulled his knees tightly against his chest and lowered his head.

"I promise, I will do everything in my power to see you released."

"He'll come. He'll come and help me." Harry muttered under his breath. His breath caught in his throat when he felt a strong, warm hand on his head; the same hand that patted his head as an eleven year old, that grasped his arm at fourteen to offer support was now mocking him.

"No, I won't." Dumbledore said his familiar blue eyes filled with cold hatred.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

**Chapter 3:**

"I'm telling you, Mad-eye," Sirius said for the fourth time that night, tapping his finger against the map. "The lower corridor is abandoned now. It's how I escaped. It's the best place to penetrate Azkaban. The structure is at its weakest."

"The guards never worried about a prisoner walking out the damn place, Black." Alastor growled irritably. "Most prisoners can't wipe the drool from their face after the first week. It's outside forces that the prison is most protected from and you weren't exactly human when you escaped. Getting in will be a lot harder than getting out."

"Then I will transform and bring the wards down from the inside, if I have to."

"No," Albus responded tiredly, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. It seemed to him that they had been going in circles for hours now, contemplating the best route of attack but to no avail. Sirius' inside knowledge of the building was invaluable but it seemed the task ahead of them was appearing more and more impossible with every passing minute.

" _No._ " He repeated, his voice becoming firmer as he stared into narrowed, gray eyes. "Even if you could bring down the wards yourself, Sirius, you would bring down the entire prison. I would like to avoid as much bloodshed as possible."

Albus got to his feet slowly, ignoring the crack and groans of his joints as he moved. Walking to the fire, he leaned against the mantle and stared into the flames until his sight became blurred, enjoying the warmth on his skin. He was sure the darkness of Grimmauld Place was becoming more sinister before their eyes.

"Its is a moot point, Sirius." Remus said reasonably. "You don't have the power it would take to bring down the wards on Azkaban. None of us could."

"That's not entirely true, is it?" Sirius asked slowly, softly. Albus closed his eyes. "Dumbledore…. _Albus_." He implored. "You have that kind of power, you're stronger than all of us combined. You can do it."

"Sirius-" Albus began sadly, his heart aching. He could barely stand the pleading in Sirius' voice.

"I don't care, Dumbledore!" Sirius said forcibly, the scraping of his chair against the floor startling in the silence that followed his outburst. "We've been doing this for days and we're getting nowhere. I don't care about the prisoners or the guards. I don't care about how much blood is spilt as long as it's not Harry's. If it's guilt you're worried about then I will take it all. I will take the goddamn responsibility of every single person who gets hurt if I need to… but I will worry about it once Harry is safe."

"Look at me!" Sirius yelled when no answer was forthcoming and Albus forced himself to turn. The other two occupants in the room were staring between them with a kind of macabre fascination but Albus' focus was on Sirius alone and the gray eyes that held a lifetime of pain. The younger man blinked suddenly as if coming out of a daze and Albus was sure he saw those eyes fill with moisture.

"He's all alone." Sirius continued, his voice breaking. It seemed he had run out of words, out of arguments borne from weeks of frustration and helplessness. All that was said was: "Those bastards put him in my cell, Dumbledore."

Dropping to his seat once again, Sirius buried his face in his hands and took a steadying breath. Swallowing against the emotion in his throat, Albus looked around the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, his eyes barely passing the blueprints and maps of Azkaban that covered every inch of the table and focused on the occupants, trying to gain some semblance of control. Alastor was looking decidedly uncomfortable, both eyes staring fixedly at a point in the wall as if it held the answer to life's mysteries. Remus reached out to place a comforting hand on his friends back but was shrugged off abruptly with a muffled "don't touch me" soon following. It appeared as if everyone was lost for words.

"Precisely." Albus said after a few moments of awkward silence, moving to settle into his chair once more. "There are dementors stationed at his door, he is surrounded by Voldemort's most loyal followers, who by now will know of his return. We would have mere seconds after the wards were disabled to get to Harry before anyone else."

Sirius did not respond but the slight droop of his shoulders told Albus he had come to the same conclusion.

"Well now that we've drawn a line under what we can't do," Alastor said gruffly. "How about we focus on what we can."

Albus ignored him. Placing a strong hand on Sirius' shoulder, he finally voiced what had been unsaid since the news of Harry's arrest. "No one helped you."

Sirius lifted his head so fast, Albus was surprised his neck didn't crack beneath the force. Pained eyes bored into him, a hint of warning gleaming from the depths but it did not deter him. " _I_ didn't help you and you spent twelve years in Azkaban because of it. I know you have no reason to trust me, Sirius but I gave Harry my word that I would see him released. If you can believe that then it is a start."

Sirius nodded so slowly, Albus began to question whether he had moved at all. "I trust you."

"Thank you, Sirius."

"Well, this is all very touching but we have more important things to be done." Alastor said roughly, pushing a particular document towards him. "Since full on attack is out of the question, what else?"

Albus smiled at his old friend for his usual brashness and lowered his hand. Remus cleared his throat and turned his attention from Sirius to address the group.

"Coercion, deception." He replied dryly. "Or compulsion."

Sirius laughed softly, trying to wipe the moisture from his eyes without notice. "Or all of the above."

"Why not." Remus said with a wry smile. "It seems unfair that you are the only wanted man in here. By this rate we'll be murdered at the front gate."

"Well, Dumbledore is almost as good as wanted." Sirius said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I'm sure Fudge would roll out the welcome mat if you walked into Azkaban. Doesn't that make you feel special?"

"Most decidedly." Albus responded in a similar fashion, his eyes lifting to the ceiling. "Oh if life were but a series of busy nothings, how content I would be."

Alastor sighed heavily and pointedly, and appeared as if he were struggling not to roll his eyes.

"This is getting us nowhere!" He snapped, rising to his feet; the sound of wooden leg clunking against the floor as he moved, taking up Albus' abandoned position next to the fire. "We might as well send Black in alone and have at it!"

Sirius snorted and swiped a hand across his eyes "Even I'm not that reckless."

"I must say," Albus said carefully, feeling the rushing thoughts within his head come to a standstill. It felt as if he were on the edge of clarity, a plan forming without thought or difficulty for the first time in weeks. "That is not a terrible idea."

"I'm sorry?" Remus said with a nervous laugh. "Are you serious, Albus?"

Albus smiled and pressed his fingertips together. He found the position rather comfortable after years of practice. "Quite."

"Oh bollocks." Sirius muttered under his breath. "We're all going to die."

Remus leaned forward in his chair, his face a mask of curiosity. "What plan are you cooking up, Albus?"

"I can't stand to be around that many dementors at one time, Dumbledore." Sirius interrupted before Albus could explain. "I won't have the strength to get him out."

"Unless we cause a diversion." Albus replied with a faint smile. "If we can keep their eye fixed on us, you should have enough time to get Harry out and lead him towards the exit."

"Madness!" Alastor growled, slamming his staff against the floor to reiterate his point. Although, Albus noticed with humor, he did not seem overly opposed to the idea.

"But you said yourself that after Crouch escaped, the security was increased. Polyjuice potion, invisibility cloaks-none of them work…Harry would be noticed right away-"

"Ah, but Harry's cloak is rather remarkable." Albus interrupted Remus.

Sirius and Remus shared a knowing glance before returning their attention to him. "Yeah," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. "We know. We spent most of our childhood hidden under it. It never failed us once."

"Nor Harry." Albus said, feeling his moustache twitch as he remembered the many adventures of the two generations. "May it not fail him now. I will see that it is brought here before we leave. Bring it to him, Sirius and lead him to the exit. I'll make sure he gets out from there."

"Hang on," Sirius said. "You couldn't possibly draw every guard and dementor to the front gate just by turning up."

"Cornelius is not stupid, Sirius. He knows I will not leave Harry there for long. He will have warned the guards that I will make some sort of rescue attempt. My very appearance will be enough to heighten the security enough to draw their attention to me. Alastor. Remus. You will join me. I will need your assistance."

"And the dementors?" Alastor questioned softly.

"All those emotions expressed during an attack, after feeding on the near-dead?" Remus voiced with barely concealed disgust. "They'll flock to us in a heartbeat."

"Yes," Sirius said quietly, as if talking to himself. After a moment, he raised his head and stared at Dumbledore with a newfound determination. "I could do it. I can enter the way I escaped. Without the dementors, I can get to Harry."

And with the declaration silence fell over the occupants of Grimmauld Place, each member lost within their own thoughts. Albus was unsure how much time had passed. He was sure this was their best chance, the risk was a worthy cause in his eyes but what he feared most of all was the state Harry would be in when they reached him. Albus let his eyes fall shut and prayed to whatever deity that would listen that Harry's strong character would be enough to keep him; that there would be something worth saving if they succeeded.

The slamming of the front door against the wall caused the ground beneath their feet to quake and the shouts of Sirius' mother was startling in the stillness that had settled over them. Sirius had half-risen from his chair to silence the portrait when the kitchen door swung open with a frightening bang and Severus entered looking uncharacteristically disheveled. Sirius dropped into his chair unceremoniously.

"Headmaster." Severus said hurriedly, his black eyes narrowed in apprehension. "I bring unfortunate news."

"Severus, what on earth has happened?"

"The Dark Lord is furious, Albus. The Order stationed at the Hall of Prophecies has been attacked. The prophecy he seeks has been destroyed in the battle."

"My God." Breathed Remus. Albus stood in a flurry of robes and faced the Potions Master, the silent question passing between them.

Severus nodded. "He has assembled his strongest followers. He is breaking into Azkaban tonight."

A cold dread settled somewhere deep in Albus' stomach and he struggled to keep the panic from showing on his face.

"I'm afraid our time is up." He addressed the others as they surged to their feet as one. "We're leaving."

**HPHPHP**

Harry awoke to the unwelcome intrusion of a voice. Barely finding the strength to lift his arm, he struggled to push away the offending hand on his shoulder. Frowning, he forced his eyes open and peered into the familiar face hovering above him. His breath caught in his throat.

Sirius.

"Oh thank God." Sirius breathed, a calloused hand stroking Harry's cheek. "I thought for a moment that you were d-"

He cleared his throat nervously and pulled Harry into sitting position, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder when he wobbled uncontrollably, his wasted muscles aching under the slightest movement.

"Sirius?" Harry croaked after a moment of shocked silence. "You've been caught?"

Sirius gave a bark of laughter, the sound unfamiliar to Harry's ears. "Not quite. I've come to get you out of here. Come on, get up."

Harry barely resisted the urge to vomit with the sudden movement as he was dragged to his feet. Resting most of his weight against Sirius, he was pulled from the room and into the dilapidated corridor. It appeared abandoned.

"Where are the dementors?" Harry whispered in the eerie silence. Sirius hushed him and tightened the arm wrapped around his waist.

"Don't talk."

Harry complied and focused his effort on putting one foot in front of the other, which in his weakened seemed to him an endless journey. The feel of Sirius' woolen cloak, his scent and the warmth of the arm that kept him upright nearly brought tears to Harry's strained eyes: It was the only source of comfort he had received in weeks. After what felt like an eternity, Harry felt his heart stop as he felt the first stirrings of wind against his skin. With a shuttered breath, he took a tumbling step into the glow of the moon, which seemed almost unbearably bright to his tired eyes. He forced himself not to close his eyelids against the sight. He had never seen anything so utterly beautiful. Before he could control himself, a startled sob escaped his throat and he leaned against the strong warmth at his side.

He was free. A surge of happiness welled up inside him until he thought he could scream into the night.

Without warning, the scar on his forehead seared with pain and he collapsed to his ground. He barely felt the pain in his knees when he landed. He tried to call out but Sirius had vanished from his side without word or reassurance. Pressing his hands against his forehead, Harry was shocked to find the flesh was not peeling beneath his fingertips. His eyes watered as the pain amplified to an unbearable intensity and an anger that was not his own filled his body until he could hardly cling to consciousness. Closing his eyes, he welcomed the blessed darkness.

When he woke again, he was lying on the cold ground of his cell, his fingertips resting against the engraving on the wall, the same position he had fallen asleep in the previous night. It wasn't the first time Voldemort had shown such delusions to him in his sleep; the means of escape varying from Dumbledore's appearance to Harry's own skill. And every time, Harry would reach the prison boundaries before he woke within in his cell; still trapped with only Voldemort's sinister presence for company.

He ran his fingertips over the name on the wall once more, reveling in the sharpness of rock against his skin. The wall had been so badly scored as if the writing had been engraved and re-engraved with each fading year: the only proof of who the previous inmate had been.

_Sirius Black_

Harry frowned and pushed himself until he was leaning against the wall, the sweat that had pooled in the small of his back cooling against the frigid rock. It was the first time since Voldemort had discovered their connection that he had left him. He could still feel the fading anger that was pulsing through his veins and the slight throb of his scar. Somewhere through his disorientation, Harry knew Voldemort was beyond furious. He closed his eyes at the despair that filled him and feared the next time Voldemort appeared he would not be a figment of his imagination.

Reaching out in the darkness, Harry's hand collided with the sharpened rock and lifting it, he contemplated the rough edge for an unmeasured time. Perhaps he should engrave his name on the wall as well. He found he was struggling to remember it.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

**Chapter 4:**

Voldemort closed his eyes and smiled as he felt the chill of the dementors, their consuming presence sending shivers over his skin. He peered over the stronghold before him, what belonged rightfully to him and him alone. It would be all too easy to take control of the prison but still there was a part of him unwilling to act. He was almost blinded with rage as he recalled the news of the prophecy's destruction and now he would kill Harry Potter without knowledge of the contents. He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the prospect. The boy was nothing but a weakling, cowering behind the skills of others. Killing him would be easy, prophecy or no prophecy. After all, he, Lord Voldemort was the greatest wizard of all time and Harry Potter was nothing but a boy whose luck had run out.

He turned to his most loyal and trustworthy followers.

"Kill the guards, release as many as possible." He said in a cold voice. "But leave the boy to me."

**HPHPHPHP**

The battle was intense. Even Albus had underestimated how tight the security would be in the face of Harry's presence within the prison. The attack had blind-sided the guards though, so much so they never realized the small group of four at the center of the battle fought with them and not against them. The building itself was barely visible through the treacherous darkness. Surrounding the entrance stood hundreds of dementors, blocking the battle that had erupted outside from the walls of the prison. To the ignorant eye, it seemed they were preventing attack on the building but Albus knew better. They had been too late. The dementors had joined Voldemort. Albus felt the unmistakable presence of dark magic, the air almost alive as the wards flickered. A muffled light reached his eyes, similar to the flash of lightening through storm clouds and Albus' heart dropped. With a sweep of his wand, the death eaters that he had been dueling fell unconscious to the ground. He turned to the man fighting at his side, his face more animated than he had seen in months.

"Sirius." Albus commanded and the man drew his attention away from the battle. "Voldemort is breaching the wards. Get to Harry."

**HPHPHPHP**

Sirius turned and charged towards the stairs, stripping himself of his robe as he ran but on the last stretch stumbled in his weariness and grief. With what little energy he had left, Sirius raised his wand and from some distant depth from within, his Patronus came forth. Several dementors turned sharply, their robes twisting and turning like smoke through the air as the large dog charged towards them before fading and disappearing into the impenetrable darkness. Even as the Patronus fell, and the dementors around it glided forward, preparing to charge, sudden warmth pressed against his back and a whisper broke forth, like a wind building in the distance. Sirius looked back. There, in the midst of battle stood Dumbledore, his wand raised towards the night sky – a beacon of light in an eternal darkness. Above him, soaring high above the crowd flew a shimmering Patronus, whose golden light seemed to pulse outward with every flap of a wing; magic so powerful, it shook the earth beneath his feet. Then, sudden and unearthly, a high burst of phoenix song rang out over Azkaban.

All that heard the sound trembled. Before the last dementor turned away from the unbearable light, Sirius changed and in his place stood Padfoot. Breath locked within his chest, Sirius pressed forward, stumbling between the broken line of dementors until the sky became clear and the low moon shone brightly. It brought little hope to Sirius.

The prison stood in ruin.

Half the building had been blasted apart and a heavy smoke filled the air as if the wards had been burned to nothing. His front paws stumbled as he took in the sight before him and now Sirius knew why Dumbledore had been so against demolishing the wards. Beyond the once strong doors, held chaos. Prisoners, guards and death eaters alike stood amidst a violent battle, bodies strewn against the stone ground, spells flashing like some horrid light show as they dueled to the death. Those without wands used fists and brawn to disable their opponents and the remaining dementors flitted between the bodies, like gruesome vultures awaiting the dead.

Grasping at the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins, Sirius charged forward through the dueling witches and wizards, who paid little mind to a large stray dog running through the entrance hall. He ran until his breath became pants and his sides burned, thanking the use of his four legs as he navigated through the unending corridors that seemed to blend into rubble and abandoned corpses. Some became nothing more than empty air as wall gave way to night and the sheer drop to the water below.

Padfoot came to a skidding halt.

Sirius had thought that every inch of the prison had been engrained so deeply in his memory he was sure nothing could remove it but as he paused at one turn-off, he realized at some point it had all blurred into one nightmare. The prison was a maze and he was lost. Before he could stop it, a whimper escaped his mouth and his ears flattened against his head. A wave of magic so dark reached his senses, the hair on his back lifted of its own will and a chill ran down his spine like ghostly fingers. He knew only one could be so evil.

Voldemort.

Against his natural instinct, Sirius forced his legs to move in the direction. Blasts of fire leaped up from the battle below, shaking the stones. He knew he was getting close. The faded yet unmistakable scent of his godson had reached him.

The distinctive walls had once again become familiar when a high-pitched, shrieking laugh caused him to falter. He turned around a blind corner, pressing his neglected body to the shadows and peered into the darkness. The light of the moon had reached the once forsaken corner of the prison with the fall of the wards. Four or five prisoners stood guarding the corridor of his old cell and there amongst them stood Bellatrix, swaying from side to side as if dancing with some invisible partner. The urge to kill, to sink his teeth into flesh had never been so great and he struggled to turned away from his demented cousin. Focusing on Harry, Sirius jumped from the shadows and ran past the newly escaped death eaters, his nails scraping against rock as he landed. Shouts of surprise and outrage followed him. Flattening his body, he dodged spells that were fired from behind. Surging forward he reached the cell door, the metal bars twisted and forced into an unnatural shape like some strange sculpture as it was ripped open. Sirius entered through the gaping hole.

His heart fell into stomach. There, within the small space, stood Voldemort, his wand pointed towards the unmoving form of his godson. A visible shiver seemed to run through the ghastly stature as his wand lifted with purpose and he screamed  _"Avada Kedavra"_

A silent scream of rage tore through Sirius as he lunged forward, teeth and claws bared and landed on the skeletal back, knocking Voldemort to the side, the vivid green of his curse demolishing the wall before them. Harry barely flinched as the rocks cascaded over his weakened body. After a startled moment, Voldemort straightened, his red eyes narrowed as he took in his attacker. Padfoot growled. Bending his legs, he prepared to lunge once more but Voldemort moved quickly and with a flick of his wand, a curse seared his side sending him crashing into the wall behind. It wasn't until he had slid to the floor, his hand struggling to stem the blood that was flowing from the open wound that he realized he had become human once more.

Sirius raised his head and looked into the dulled green eyes that were staring at him. He was sure he saw a flicker of recognition in the depths.

"Harry-" He tried before a burst of agony spread through his lungs, making speech near impossible. He could do nothing but watch helplessly, unable to move his trembling limbs and Voldemort raised his wand once more. "No…no, no."

A whip of sound cracked through the air so loud that if Sirius could move, he would have covered his ears. As if pulled by an invisible rope, Harry's body flew across the ground until he landed next to him. Sirius took a breath of relief through his burning airway as he felt the slight warmth of his godson against his side. He turned his head in time to see Dumbledore's brightly colored robes sweep past him as he faced Voldemort alone.

He was sure an unbelievable feat of magic was being performed before him but his attention was focused solely on his godson. He looked emaciated, as if the life had been drained out of him but the features were so familiar and welcome that he felt tears burn behind his eyelids. Harry stared into his eyes, a faint line crossing his forehead as he frowned.

"Are you real?" He whispered.

Sirius felt his heart throb within his chest, his limbs becoming heavier with each broken breath. "Yeah, I'm real kiddo."

**HPHPHPHP**

Harry was tired. Beyond exhaustion he was sure of little else. This dream was strange compared to the others he had experienced during his prison sentence. It was Sirius who had come to his rescue again but this time he was weak, he bled and he cried. He closed his eyes and moved towards the engraving on the wall. It was his truth, his anchor. Everything else was nothing but a lie.

Through blurred eyes, he thought he saw Dumbledore and Voldemort dueling, the force of their spells lifting his limp hair from his scalp. He was so close to Dumbledore, he could reach out and touch the hem of his robes. The ground beneath him trembled and rock fell from every direction. It was almost like rainfall.

"Sirius!" An urgent voice broke through his silence and he turned in time to see Lupin arrive at his side. His eyes flickered between Harry and Sirius, his face covered in cuts and blood and he seemed to favor his left arm. Forcing Sirius' hand out of the way, Lupin examined the wound quickly and Harry was startled at the amount of blood he could see. Lupin ran the tip of his wand along the injury.

"It's all I can do." He said after a moment. Sirius tried to move but groaned and stilled suddenly. Before he knew what was happening, Lupin reached out and cupped Harry's face, his amber eyes softening with some unknown emotion. His hands were warm.

"It'll be ok, Harry." He said before releasing his hold and turning back to Sirius. Harry looked away and focused on the sliver of moonlight that stretched across the wall.  _Strange,_ Harry thought. He could never see the moon before. "Fudge is here with the aurors."

"Get him!" Sirius snarled harshly and Harry turned back in time to see him nod his head towards the dueling wizards. "Let him see the truth with his own eyes. Where is Bellatrix?"

He finished suddenly, staring out into the corridor. Harry followed his gaze and saw several bodies lying on the ground some distance away from them. He could hear the shouts and screams in the distance as if some great battle was taking place beneath their feet.

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Lupin asked, clearly startled. "I didn't see her."

Harry blinked. He had heard that name before.

"Damn!" Sirius cursed, his face lined with anger and pain. "Never mind. Go! Get Fudge here now."

Lupin nodded and darted upright so quickly that Harry jumped in surprise before he disappeared from sight.

"Harry?" Sirius asked softly, his blood covered hand reaching out to him.

Harry flinched and pushed himself toward the gaping hole in the wall. He could feel the wind on his face. It was calming. He was much too tired for Voldemort's games. He wanted the peace of nothingness he had come to crave. No illusions, no dreams….nothing. Sirius groaned loudly from his side as he forced himself to stand, his left arm cradling his injured stomach. He flinched violently and turned his head as debris fell down from wayward spells. For the first time, Harry noticed that everything simply bounced off of him, as if he were blanketed in some invisible shield. Harry closed his eyes again. It hurt too much to think.

"I will kill you, Dumbledore!" Voldemort screamed suddenly and Harry whimpered. "You and the boy!"

"You cannot win this fight, Tom." Dumbledore replied calmly, no hint of fear in his voice.

"I know of the connection between us, the link to his mind." Voldemort said with a manic excitement. "No matter where he goes, he will never be free of me."

Whatever Dumbledore was intending to say was cut short with the indignant voice that filled the cell.

"Unhand me, werewolf. This instance!"

"See for yourself, Fudge." Lupin said roughly, pushing Fudge forward. For a moment Voldemort and Fudge stared into each other's eyes, terror and rage in equal measures. A scream of fury erupted from Voldemort and in a blink of an eye he disappeared from sight.

"MASTER!"

Time seemed to stop and Harry witnessed everything with a strange clarity through red snake-like eyes before he was suddenly gripped with unspeakable pain. It felt as if he was wrapped within an agonizing nightmare but he knew the foreign feeling within him well. Voldemort was in his mind again. With her Masters disappearance Bellatrix, who had hidden within the shadows, charged towards Dumbledore in deranged fury. A blur of color at his side told him the Sirius had moved in front of him. Locked within the snake's grasp, Harry's body jerked forward into her path but with a flick of Dumbledore's wand, he slammed into the wall behind, his eyes already streaming with tears. Blinking the moisture from his eyes, Harry's vision cleared in time to see Sirius and Bellatrix, wrapped around each other as they plunged forward into empty space and disappeared from sight.

A scream echoed throughout the cell and from some strange distant place, Harry realized it was from himself. The coils loosened from within as Harry stared into the outside night. He closed his eyes and then opened them but found he was still trapped within the nightmare. Again and again he blinked, willing himself to awake alone on the floor, his cell undamaged. Nothing changed but the pain in him as the coils tightened once more.

This was no illusion. Sirius had been real and not a figment of Voldemort's cruel schemes and he had just saved Harry from certain death at the hands of his insane cousin, never to return. And with that certainty, Harry's heart shattered.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

Chapter 5:

The sound of the cup hitting the table seemed deafening to Harry. He didn't think he could stomach anything, even liquid but refrained from saying so. He wasn't even sure he still had a voice. Instead he reached out and wrapped his hands around the steaming cup, trying to ease the numbing cold that seemed to radiate to his bones and avoided Lupin's studious glances as he sat across from him at the table. With a sigh Lupin drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of the crackling fire in the kitchen hearth and the soft thud of his cup as it hit the table. Harry, however, could not escape his thunderous thoughts as the nights events replayed over and over in his mind, tainted and twisted by possession and confusion. It still seemed like a distant memory, a shattered dream he once had and he had difficultly convincing himself it wasn't just another vision, another trick spawned by Voldemort's evil. However, the sight of Sirius plummeting beyond the broken wall, away from Azkaban - from Harry, seemed to flash behind his eyelids with sickening clarity. His fingers clenched around the cup and distantly he became aware of a sharp pain across his knuckles. Without thought he lifted his hands and stared at the ugly wounds, coated in blood and dirt, with little care. He barely acknowledged the pain and lowered his hands to ignore them once more. Lupin however, did not ignore it.

"I'm sorry, Harry." He began calmly, softly. "I didn't realise. May I?"

He asked reaching out his hand to inspect the wounds. Harry looked at him strangely. Compared to the other wounds he had sustained over his time in Azkaban, the cuts on his hands were inconsequential. However, the slight pleading he saw in Lupin's eyes had him reaching out without further thought. To Harry, it seemed that healing his wounds gave him some sense of purpose and so he did not refuse. However at first contact, Harry gasped softly and retreated with an awkward jerk of his arm, moving to his side of the table once more. He stared staring at his fingertips with distant shock. Everything seemed more vivid and yet more surreal than he could remember. Now, with a clear head, even the smallest of touches seemed strange to him. Even his skin tingled where contact had been made however, that could have been born from his own stinted imagination. How Harry had longed for human contact as he wasted away in Azkaban and now it was as foreign to him as the wood beneath his fingertips.

Harry coughed slightly, and peered awkwardly at the elder man through his knotted bangs. Lupin however hadn't flinched at Harry's sudden retreat, but kept his hand stretched forward, a look of calm understanding in his eyes.

"It's alright." He whispered and Harry clenched his fingers once, twice before he slowly placed his right hand into the man's much larger palm. Lupin breathed out softly and lifted his wand with his free hand, murmuring a soft healing spell that Harry had never heard of. Slowly, his skin knitted together under the tip of his wand, leaving a slight tingling in its wake. Harry placed his left hand forward and Lupin repeated the actions. Once the spell was finished, Lupin lowered his wand but he kept Harry's hand within his gentle grasp, his thumb stroking the now healed skin in contemplative silence. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could do much better than I, but it should do for now."

A memory flashed through Harry's mind at the softly spoken comment, similar words being said while they stood within the Shrieking Shack. The night Harry had met his godfather. Shutting his eyes tight, Harry tried to force the memory away. He took a shaky breath to compose himself but between the sudden thought of losing Sirius and the soft affectionate touch of his godfather's oldest friend, he could feel the burning surge of tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

"Sirius…" Harry croaked, unable to continue through the lump in his throat. He felt the tightening of Lupin's fingers around his hand before they relaxed and began their soft journey once more. The only indication of his silent worry.

"It'll be alright, Harry." Lupin said. He had repeated the phrase throughout the night as if he was convincing himself more than Harry. "You'll see. Albus will find him."

Whether he found him alive or not was heard as loud as if Lupin had shouted it in the silence that had enveloped them. He pulled his hand from the other's grasp. Harry couldn't remember much of what happened after Sirius had fell. Voldemort's sudden and painful exit from Harry's body had exhausted him beyond words, even more so due to his weakened state. He heard muffled conversation, the feel of Lupin's hand around his upper arm and the sickening introduction to the method of apparition. By the time Harry had stopped feeling nauseous, he was being led gently through Grimmauld Place and into the kitchen.

And so the hours passed, slowly with each tick of the clock. The tears that had threatened to fall earlier retreated into the back of Harry's mind. He felt too detached from everything to cry. He wrapped his hands around the now cold teacup, and stared into the black depths. At some point Lupin half-heartedly offered to freshen the liquid but Harry's silence was answer enough. A sudden burst of fire mid-air caused Harry to jump to his feet, knocking the liquid onto the table. No one took any notice. The light dimmed, retreating into the shadowed darkness of the room and there, standing in the middle of the room was Dumbledore supporting an injured, exhausted yet very much alive Sirius Black.

Despite his obvious injuries, Sirius moved swiftly around the table and pulled Harry into a hug so tight he struggled to breath. Harry tried to lift his arms to return the hug but he was frozen. He could feel the strong thump of his godfather's heartbeat against his cheek and some of the tension that had locked his battered frame seemed to vanish. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Sirius' robes in an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew this was real. Sirius was alive.

Sirius pulled back suddenly, his hands coming up to cup Harry's face as he peered down at him with concern. "Are you hurt?"

He asked, scanning his body quickly yet thoroughly for any signs of injury. He paused suddenly and dropped his hands to Harry's, lifting them up to eye level, taking in the signs of blood and healed skin.

"I healed his hands." Lupin said softly, answering Sirius' unasked question. "I'm not sure how they became like that."

"I know." Sirius responded softly, staring into Harry's eyes with such intensity that Harry looked away. "Trying to break out."

"Yes." Harry agreed softly, pulling his hands from Sirius' grasp, his eyes lowered to the floor.

"Tried to do it myself after the first week." Sirius' voice sounded somewhere from above him. The words seemed to reverberate in the air after he said them, slightly tense. Sirius moved swiftly towards the opposite side of the kitchen and Harry raised his head in time to see Sirius embrace Lupin tightly, both ignoring their obvious injuries from the battle.

"How on earth did you survive that fall, my friend?" Lupin asked calmly, but Harry could see the disbelief in his eyes as clearly as if he had screamed it.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "I have my ways, old Moony. Still, not as quick as I used to be. If it hadn't been for Albus I probably would have been lost to the sea."

Although Sirius said it calmly, evenly Harry felt a chill course through him at the flippant words. How different this night could have been seemed to linger in his mind, enveloping him in coldness as if a dementor was near. As soon as the thought came, it receded and a warm, comforting presence took its place. Harry blinked and turned his head to come in contact with Dumbledore's warm gaze. The other wizard winked softly before turning back to the blazing fire and stared into its depths as if it held the secrets of the war, looking older than Harry could ever remember.

The clink of glass against wood drew Harry's attention away from the elder wizard to his godfather, who was taking a small gulp of firewhiskey before handing it to his friend. "It helps with the shock, trust me."

Lupin stared at the bottle warily before grabbing it and lifting it to his lips. He took a sip and grimaced, putting the bottle out of reach. Sirius smirked and clapped him on the shoulder. "Lightweight."

"Where's Alastor?" Lupin asked suddenly, his eyes scanning the room quickly as if expecting him to appear from the shadows.

"Alerting the Order." Dumbledore said, without looking away from the fire. "There is much to discuss. It appears Cornelius is more misled than we feared."

"What do you mean?" Lupin asked. "He saw Voldemort with his own eyes."

Sirius' face darkened, his eyes glinting in the firelight like steel. "He's still denying his return. The attack was orchestrated by Albus and me, with the aid of a madman and a werewolf or so he claims. He'll see this world brought to ruin with his ignorance and greed."

Sirius finished coldly, examining his arm with interest before tapping it gently with his wand and watching as the ugly burn that had covered most of the skin disappeared. Sirius raised his head suddenly and caught Harry's gaze.

"Congratulations Harry." Sirius began, gloomily. "You been promoted to an escaped convict."

Harry wavered on the spot perilously before Sirius walked around the pulled his abandoned chair under him.

"Sit down before you fall down." He said softly and Harry obeyed gladly, too exhausted to argue. Sirius crouched down beside him, one hand balancing his weight against the back of the chair. He was careful not to touch Harry, talking to him as if a frightened animal. "Listen to me," He said softly, waiting until Harry met his eyes. "Whatever comes next, whatever happens….the main thing is that you're out of there and you're safe. We can deal with anything else after that. You hear me?"

Harry nodded. It was true, nothing was as bad, as horrifying as Azkaban. And as he stared into the haunted eyes of his godfather, tainted by the same horrors he had witnessed, he felt a surge of affection for the man; a connection he never felt before. If Sirius could still fight after twelve years of imprisonment then surely he could as well. Harry looked at the other two men in the room who remained suspiciously quiet and realised they were listening intently with every word, allowing Sirius to talk to him.

"It's ok to feel here Harry." He coaxed. "No one is going to take it away."

The gentle tone of his godfather's voice, the warm presence of the men around him and the lingering traces of Dumbledore's spell flowing through his veins somehow made him feel relaxed despite the situation. There was no pity in their eyes, just calm understanding and Harry felt as if he could finally speak. He could relieve himself of the horrors he had witnessed. Another part of him wanted to run, to hide and not have to deal with the moment when the shock would fade and the memories would return.

"Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it." Dumbledore said softly as if reading his mind. Harry felt a tremor go through him at the words, the memory of another time when he had to relieve past horrors and the relief he felt when he finally voiced it. Harry took a deep breath and looked down at his clasped hands.

"Voldemort…he made me see things, people that weren't real, weren't alive…. I-I saw my mu-"

The thundering sound of the door slamming startled Harry so much, he almost toppled of his chair. Sirius came to a stand, cursing under his breath when his mother's portrait began screaming her usual venom. Lupin rushed from the room to silence her. No sooner had the door closed behind him than it swung open again as Mrs. Weasley rushed into the room, letting out a muffled scream when she saw Harry.

"Oh Harry," she said sobbing, coming towards him with her arms out-stretched. "I came as soon as I heard."

For some unexplainable reason Harry felt panic rise through his chest at the sudden interruption and jumped back so forcefully, he knocked his chair to the ground. He saw the hurt that flashed across the woman's face at the rejection and instantly felt guilty for his reaction. However, some part of him closed off at the intrusion. He no longer felt….safe. He shuffled on the spot awkwardly, avoiding her glance.

"You poor boy," She continued on, wringing her hands. "It must have been just terrible-"

"Of course it was terrible you idiot women" Harry heard Sirius mutter under his breath but it appeared Mrs. Weasley had not.

"What you need is a good hot meal, you're nothing but skin and bones." Mrs. Weasley said, almost as if she was speaking to herself.

"Molly," Sirius said with forced calm. "He has barely eaten in weeks, he cannot stomach a full meal. You'll make him sick. Instead of treating him like a child, why don't you ask Harry what he needs?"

"What he needs-" Mrs. Weasley replied angrily, her face turning as red as her hair.

"Enough." Dumbledore said softly, firmly and Harry was surprised to see real anger in his eyes as he glanced between the two adults. Sirius took a calming breath and looked away while Mrs. Weasley shuffled on the spot irritably, clearly readying for a fight. Dumbledore said no more and turned to look at Harry who was avoiding his eyes. Instead he stared at the heavy folds of his midnight blue robes, wanting nothing more than to hide away from everything. He wondered if there was enough room for him in the many folds of Dumbledore's outer robes that he could simply disappear. If he could have, he would have laughed at the thought. Distantly Harry realised that the hallway was silent once more and Lupin had returned to the room, without drawing attention to his presence. He wondered how much he had heard.

"'M tired." Harry said softly, not speaking to anyone in particular.

"Yes, yes." Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully. "A good night's sleep will do wonders. Up to bed with you."

Harry heard Sirius sigh heavily. "Your trunk is in the room you stayed in during summer. Minerva brought it here after-"

Harry only nodded and turned swiftly towards the door.

"One moment," Dumbledore said gently, stopping Harry in his tracks. He expected an argument and turned to face the elder man with a sense of foreboding. However, when he faced him he was holding a small bottle of purple potion, which Harry recognised as dreamless sleep. "You should be free of nightmares for tonight at least."

Harry took the potion without looking at the others and began the long assent to his room.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

"What will you do about Umbridge?" Sirius asked quietly, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. Albus sighed and rested his aging bones against the other side watching the teen sleep, a look of peace on his face. He wasn't sure how long he and Sirius had stood here, watching over Harry as he slept, but he felt some relief knowing that the young man was finally getting some well-needed rest.

"Minerva will see to the running of the school in my absence." Albus responded in equal volume, not wishing to disturb the youngest of the three. "Until my reinstatement, I must put my faith in her."

"You seem certain you will be reinstated."

"It is only a matter of time before Cornelius must confront the truth." Albus said, trying to ignore the small niggling of doubt that had formed in the back of his mind. "Dolores Umbridge was placed in Hogwarts as a means of spying on Harry and I. Our absence ensures her poison will be less effective. I hope." He added under his breath, his blood boiling at the thought of that woman near his students without his protection. However, it was another's protection he cared about now.

"Do you truly believe he will recover from this, Sirius?" Albus asked in an uncharacteristic show of doubt, glancing to the younger man at his side. He had never truly felt his age in so very long.

Sirius sighed and flexed his shoulders, his eyes never leaving his godson. "Yes, he just needs understanding and time…to heal." Sirius said turning to face Albus, a steely look of determination in his eyes. "And he cannot do it here."

Albus sighed and closed his eyes. "If I thought that it would help him, I would Sirius but this is the best place for him."

"Rubbish!' Sirius responded in a furious whisper. "How can this be the best place for him? He needs space. Not this pit of misery. You can't keep him here, Albus. Take him away somewhere, anywhere and remind him what it's like to be free. You can protect him better than anyone! The Order doesn't need you-"

"However, Harry needs you." Albus said softly. Sirius stopped abruptly and stared at Albus in shock. "You are the one that understands what he needs. You are what's best for him. You proved that tonight."

Albus turned back towards Harry and watched his body twitch slightly however he knew it was not caused by nightmares. It was his weakened body, so broken down that it struggled even in slumber.

"No." Sirius said softly and Albus turned to him once more. "No, he doesn't need me. He needs someone who loves him, it doesn't really matter who that is. If I doubted for a second that you weren't suitable, I wouldn't let you near him. You proved that tonight."

Albus smiled softly, remembering the sacrifice the younger man had almost made to protect him during Bellatrix's attack. "I never did say thank you, did I?"

Sirius shrugged and turned back towards his godson. "Voldemort tried to throw Harry in Bellatrix's way. You made sure that didn't happen at risk to yourself. You would have given your life for him. I was simply returning the favor. Besides, I'm younger than you. I can heal quicker."

Albus chuckled softly. "That is certainly true."

"Take him away from here, Albus. Heal him, help him….and then train him to survive this war." Sirius said, his voice suddenly serious. "Before Molly starts force-feeding him."


End file.
